Meadowlark
by The Darklight Angel
Summary: Yet young Galinda’s favourite story was not of these fantastical men and woman and their happily-ever-after endings. On the contrary, her favourite story was the story of the Meadowlark. Slight gelphie, musical-verse. One-shot.


**Meadowlark**

Based upon the absolutely gorgeous song Meadowlark, written by Stephen Schwartz. Youtube it, I'm sure you'll find it; I enjoy listening to the Stephanie J. Block version myself.

Disclaimer – I do not own Glinda, or Elphaba, or anyone else in this story. I do not own the story of the Meadowlark.

* * *

When Galinda was a girl, she loved fairytales.

When she was little, she used to toddle up to her father and beg him to tell her a story.

As many people tended to do back then (as well as they did now) her father bent to her whims. No matter how busy he was with his paperwork and business deals and general all around work, he would always chuckle softly when he felt the familiar tugging at his trouser leg and hear her quiet pleas.

No matter how old she became, or how much he was scolded by Galinda's mother for babying the growing young woman, he would always swing Glinda into his lap and sit her on his knee.

He would speak then, his booming voice softening to a gentle rumble as he painted pictures in Galinda's imagination through his stories, which were told so earnestly that the young girl would almost forget that they were not real.

Her eyes used to widen as he told her of dashing princes and young men. She would gasp as he spoke of knights in gleaming armour fighting off dragons and ogres and creatures of terrible evil. She would swoon as she heard of the gorgeous maidens and princesses becoming queens as they were saved by their charming young saviours and swept off their feet.

Yet young Galinda's favourite story was not of these fantastical men and woman and their happily-ever-after endings.

On the contrary, her favourite story was the story of the Meadowlark.

"_Once upon a time..."_ Her father would begin, his voice lowering to a whisper. Immediately, Galinda would cuddle up close, leaning into her father, eager to hear the oft told tale. She knew it by heart, but that made it no less special every single time she heard it.

The story would begin with a Meadowlark. The Meadowlark had a prized gift- she had a voice that surely matched those that came from the heavens. When the Lark would sing, she could meet the most beautiful angel's voices in their glory, her voice warbling and rising, enrapturing all those who listened.

Yet the Meadowlark had a flaw- not a flaw, per se, but something that hindered her. Though she would since of trees and hills and oceans, she herself could not see them.

The poor, beautiful Lark was blind. She could never see the wondrous places she loved to sing of.

One day though, an old, grand King heard her singing by the riverside. Captivated by the Meadowlark's voice, he took her to his fine palace, made of strong, powerful walls of bronze, steel, marble, mixed into a majestic colour of golden gray. The Lark stayed with the king, and lived with him in his palace. The King fed her by hand, feeding her rare nuts and precious food out of an ivory chalice.

"Sing for me, my Meadowlark." He would beg her. "Sing for me."

As he begged, she sang, and the old King was delighted. He promised to give her everything she could ever want- priceless jewels, riches beyond her imagination, all the meals she could ever want- just as long as she would always sing for him; and so she did.

But one day, as the Meadowlark was let out of the palace and was singing by the riverside once more, someone _else_ heard her singing. He was the God of the Sun, flying around the world, providing light and heat to all in Oz and beyond. As he flew by, he heard her- and when he did, just like the old King, he was touched. Moved by her breathtaking voice, he paused in his flight, and flew down to the young Lark. The God brought her a gift; a gift that was precious, meaningful, and powerful. It was a gift that all gold in the world could not purchase; a gift that the King could never give her.

The God of the sun brought the Meadowlark the gift of sight.

And for the first time in her life, the Lark opened her eyes...

And _saw._

She saw the world around her.

She saw the bright sky above her, the pure blue expanse broken only by the occasional soft cloud. She saw the clear rushing water beside her that previously had only ever been known to her through sound and sound alone. She saw the trees, the forests, the grass, the home she had never truly known until that moment.

But most of all, she saw _him._

Most of all, she saw the Sun God before her.

She saw a man, full of splendour, clothes by the colours of fire itself. Oranges, reds, yellows and pinks adorned his body, his garments constantly glowing and pulsing like the sun he represented. He shimmered, and he radiated an aura of power and strength. His eyes were proud, but there was wisdom alongside it.

He gazed upon the Lark, and he held his hand out.

"Fly with me, my Meadowlark." He asked her in a voice that was both rough and tender. "Fly with me."

The God of the Sun asked her to come with him to a land far, far away from the place she called home. He told the Lark of a place past the sea where he would take her; a place where the dolphins would bark merrily, crying for joy as they swam along the eternally warm waves of the tropical sea; a place where they would dance along the coral beaches until the moon was high in the sky; a place where they would feed off of the bountiful plums and peaches hanging lushly upon the trees, eating until they were satisfied, until their bellies were full and they would never want for food again.

Yet while the God offered her all of these things...

The Meadowlark said no.

She refused his offer, as she remembered the King- the King who loved her so. Unwilling to wound the pride of the old King who had been so kind to her, she decided to stay. The God of the Sun was sad, heartbroken by the Lark's decision, but he flew away, continuing on his journey around the world and leaving the Lark behind.

Later on, when the King came down that day to call to his precious Meadowlark, he could not find her. So he searched high and low, calling for her, begging her to come out of hiding and come to him.

Yet still, the Lark did not.

Finally, after hours of searching, the old King found the Meadowlark at last...

...Only to discover that the Lark had died.

The story ended there, and every time, Glinda would find herself in tears. Spellbound, struck breathless by the story, it would always affect her; no matter how old she became, it would always make an impact on her life.

Even now, years and years later, when Galinda became Glinda and she was not a child but instead a woman, the story of the Meadowlark still affected her.

* * *

Glinda stared into a woman's eyes, her own wide in shock. In one hand, the woman held an old and beaten broom; in the other, she was clutching Glinda's own hand firmly. The woman's eyes, dark and rich as overturned soil flickered, and her unique green skin was flushed an ever deeper green in excitement.

"Come with me." Elphaba begged. "Think of what we can do- together!"

And for some strange reason, Glinda began to think of the Meadowlark.

In a way, she had never understood the story. Yet now, when the Wizard's men were about to ram the door in, and Elphaba was asking her to fly away with her, the meaning was finally clear to Glinda, now that the beloved childhood story reflected her life at the very moment.

Glinda herself was the Lark.

Glinda was the Meadowlark, and the Old King was the world around her. Admiring her greatly, society placed her in the world of the high class; a world where to survive, she did what they expected of her; she gossiped, she made friends for power instead of love, and learned the life of the lady, rising through the social hierarchy wherever she could, whenever she could. As a result, as a reward, Glinda was given whatever her heart desired; she was draped in riches and fine cloth and the best of the best, receiving more and more earthly goods as she became a more influential, powerful woman. So long as she did what society wanted, she received her rewards.

And she did, for many, many long years. Yet still, Glinda now realized, she was blind- she didn't see herself, didn't see the wrong in what high class life taught her to do.

Until she met her own, personal Sun God, that was; or, in this case, her Sun Goddess.

She did not see until she met Elphaba.

Elphaba was the one to give her sight- she opened Glinda's eyes to the world, and for the first time, Glinda saw. She saw what she was doing; she saw that it was wrong.

And when Glinda received her clarity and perspective, she saw Elphaba for who she was as well. Before, Elphaba was just an annoying, mean, smart-aleck ugly green girl, someone to be made fun of and mocked, just another bottom dweller on the ladder of society. Yet now that Elphaba had gifted her with her 'sight', her new perspective, she could see that Elphaba was none of those things. Elphaba was a misunderstood, fiery and passionate woman with a thirst for knowledge and nearly impenetrable walls built around her. Those same walls were broken down the night when the danced at the Ozdust Ballroom, and Glinda had gotten through, seeing Elphaba in a new light. Elphaba was not ugly- she was breathtakingly beautiful, inside and out, and Glinda grew to love her for her beauty and for the fact that _she_ was the first thing she had seen with her new clarity.

Yet was that love enough?

Glinda did not know, but she knew she had to make a decision fast as Elphaba spoke again.

"Together, they'll never bring us down." Elphaba breathed. "Are you coming?"

"I..."

Glinda hesitated. This was it; it was now or never. She could stay behind and let Elphaba fly away, or she could go with her. In the brief silence, Glinda's eyes dropped to their hands, green flesh covering pink.

In that moment, seeing their joined hands, Glinda's decision was made.

"Yes."

Elphaba's face lit up in the brightest smile Glinda had ever seen, and she stuck the broom out in front of them both. Mounting it daintily, Elphaba got on right after Glinda did. Within a moment, they had risen into the air, just as the Gale Force broke down in the doors.

The guards stared up at them in a mixture of awe, fear, and wonder at the two women on the broom, and it gave Elphaba and Glinda enough time to shoot out of the window and leave them all behind.

Just like Glinda was leaving her old life behind.

She knew- she knew if she stayed, she would return her old ways. But there would be a difference; she would still keep her new perspective. Eventually, she would grow to hate herself.

That was why she went with Elphaba. Glinda knew that with the green woman, her old life would not blind her anymore. She could be the woman she wanted to be, she could allow herself not to succumb to society anymore and be the woman she had become on the inside. She could become the woman who had sight, instead of the girl stumbling in the dark.

Yet Glinda knew that behind her, her old world would not be the same. People she knew would be hurt by her decision. Her name once caressed and cherished by many, would be spat bitterly like a rancid bit of food by those same people. They would have wounds; they would _all_ have wounds, but they would eventually learn to live without her.

As Glinda had learned to live without them.

So before her past once again could blind her, Glinda flew away with her sun Goddess. The woman who she loved above all of society, the woman she cared for more than any of them.

Elphaba.

With both hands clutched tightly on the handle of the broom, Glinda sat back in the green woman's arms, and smiled. Eyes trailing up to the beautiful, proud, and determined green face above hers, Glinda felt a surge of love, joy, and most importantly, _hope_ surge through her body.

"We won't wait to say goodbye," Glinda whispered.

"My beautiful young girl and I."


End file.
